Page 72 of Never the Same

“I don’t want to hear how you’re a nobody. Not worthy or whatever nonsense you spewed earlier.” A single tear slid down her cheek, distracting me, allowing her to nearly break the pillow free from my grip. “And screw what my mother said. You may have dropped out of school, but look at you now. You became part of one of the world’s most elite units. Delta Force,” she continued, more tears trailing down her face, hitting her lips.

All I could do was hold on to the pillow with everything I had in me and not jerk it and her over to my lap.

“I don’t know what happened to you, but you’re the definition of resilient. It makes perfect sense to me why someone would choose you to be the one they plant in my head as my husband and the father of my children.”

My husband and the father of my children had to be the best words I’d ever had thrown at me in my entire life.

“So yes, you deserve a pillow to the face, over and over again, until I can get it through your thick skull that you’re good enough. More than good enough,” she rasped, voice breaking. Also breaking me in damn half.

“You don’t know me,” I said under my breath, unable to shake my past.

I’d overcome more obstacles than I could count in my life and struggled every day not to fall back to my old ways. It was a daily battle trying to be a better man. But could I be her man? No, no way.

“You’re right. My body and mind don’t know you.” She licked her lips, catching her tears. “But my soul does. Or did you forget what you told—”

“Stop.” I shifted off the bed, needing to get away from her. Ranger remained by my feet, his gaze volleying between us. “That ‘soul’ feeling . . .”—I was a jackass and used air quotes—“it’s based on lies someone shoved in your head. The desire? Fake. Your perception of me? Tainted.”

She chucked the pillow, ready to go to war on her feet. She rounded the bed to confront me, and Ranger whimpered, as if he hated seeing his mom and dad fighting. “I hate you for saying that, for making me—”

“See?” I bit out, jaw strained as I stared her down. “That feeling right there is the real one. Stick with it. Been trying to tell you since the day you asked me if we were . . .” I shook my head and left off the sleeping with each other part of my unhinged statement.

She swiped her tears free with the backs of her hands as if those liquid drops had betrayed her.

“You’re confused. You don’t want me, I promise.” I softened my tone that time, remembering why I came here, and it wasn’t to knock down someone already in pain.

“Fine, okay,” she sputtered, slamming her hands on her hips. “Then look me in the eyes and tell me it’s all fake for you. It’s just desire because you’re a man who finds me attractive.”

I squeezed my hands open and closed at my sides, trying to get a grip. To do what she said and lie right to her face. “No.” I had no idea what I was even saying no to. It was the only word I could get out.

She poked my chest, and I gritted down on my back teeth and lowered my chin to stare at her finger, catching sight of Ranger still wedged between us.

“Look at me.”

I did as she asked. Eyes clashing with hers. Snarling at her. Baring my teeth. My lungs ached as I felt the weight of everyone’s pain and disappointment from all over the world fill up every crack and crevice of my very being. Fuck, it hurt.

I couldn’t lie. I couldn’t tell her I only wanted her body. So I did my best to reroute. Find a new path out of this. “We’ll never fit together. It’d never work.” The words tasted like ash, and it was also a scapegoat. The clichéd excuse: poor boy and rich girl, blah-blah-blah, nonsense.

“Good, great.” She leaned forward so far she had to grab my forearm to maintain her balance and not step on Ranger. “Now try that again while looking into my eyes. And tell me you don’t want me.”

I’d rather have open heart surgery while I was awake than lie to her. She already had a grip around my heart; I could feel her trying to physically pump life into it, and she had no business doing that. Because the second she came back to us with her memories, she’d leave me there with my chest cracked open, heart bare to the world.

“Can’t do it, can you?” She tightened her hold of my arm.

“Why won’t you listen to me? What the hell did they do to you to make you want . . .” I closed my eyes, hanging my head. “Are we really standing here talking about this? You and me? When there are a dozen things that matter more? Like who did this to you, why they did it, and how to get your memories back?” Dodge and deflect—that was the only ammo I had left to try to win this war.

“The fact we are talking about it despite everything going on must mean it’s important. We’ve been circling back to us since the moment you walked into the room at my parents’ house. Doesn’t that tell you something?”

“Just proves my point.” I should have gone with plan A. Even B. Anything but the direction I’d gone. “Someone used me to mess you up.” My free hand slid from my chest to my ribs at the memory of what I had tattooed there.

This Hollis may want me, but Celeste Hollis wouldn’t. I hadn’t missed the signs before. Sexual tension? Maybe. But love, and for me to be the father of her children? No, she never wanted me like that before. Not possible.

“Jason,” she breathed out.

I had no idea how she managed to redeem that name, but somehow I could physically feel the damage done by my father begin to drift away. Each time that name hit the air from her tongue, it hurt a little less.

“I can’t do this.” I opened my eyes, rested a hand on top of hers, and gently removed her touch so I could retreat. “You should rest.”

God, every part of me felt banged up and broken.